


Orange Cream

by big_zs_d_stan



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Crack, M/M, Romance, Smut, TRULY SORRY, im sorry, mysterious ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-03
Updated: 2018-10-03
Packaged: 2019-07-24 12:02:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16174676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/big_zs_d_stan/pseuds/big_zs_d_stan
Summary: Claude has a sexy evening with the terrifying new mascot.





	Orange Cream

**Author's Note:**

> im sorry. tumblr is @bunny-chara if you wanna yell at me

It was Sunday afternoon and Claude Giroux had just gotten home from church, looking for something to do. The dead of winter punished him with freezing hands, so it looked like staying indoors would be the most wise - or at least the most comfortable option. Of course he made the journeys before in this weather to pick up groceries, or to walk the dog; the typical kind of thing. But it was just too frigid to go out and find something fun, and he would have to make do.

Pulling off his frosty parka and soggy mittens, he placed them on the counter and plodded over to the kitchen, the overhead lights blinding him just a little. The everlasting desire to stare at the sun always surrounded him, and he always forgot that it could end up driving him blind. But that was the beauty of life, taking risks and losing your sight. The signs were there, and it was best for him to keep his head down.

The keurig coffee machine sat in front of him, sleek and black, an impressive modern design. It buzzed and churned away, growling like a lion. A testament to the 21st century, it's sharp reflective design gleamed at the ginger mystically as it spat java out into his mug. He patted it a few times in appreciation, a thank you for its hard and diligent work. He thought he almost heard it say 'you're welcome' back, but shrugged it off as he plopped down on the sofa, kicking his feet up.

Slapping his hand on the leather cushion in search for his tablet, a sigh of relief escaped as flesh came in contact with the cold metal. Soft cushiony fabric enveloped him like a regal curtain as he tapped away on tumblr, looking for Sidney Crosby smut to read, to drown out the hours left in the day by imagining he was being seduced by the Penguins player. He felt a warmth inside that the blanket covering you couldn't create, eyes fluttering shut and breathing in his scent - Sidney's scent, though he wasn't there it was like he was right next to him. It was a smell of home, masculine and strong - even a bit fishy? It was all too much to handle, knuckles whitening from his grip on the couch cushion.

"Ooh, I like the way that feels." A voice came from beside him, forcing his eyes open in terror. There was a giant hill of orange fluff and googly eyes staring back at Claude, and as he looked down, it appeared as though his hand was on its crotch.

"Who are you? What are you doing in my house?!," he began to yell, scrunching the duvet up in his arms and flailing about. Part of him wanted to run, like any sane person should, but he couldn't keep his eyes off the monster in front of him. He was giant; his thighs thick and his shoulders wide. It was a sight of awe, the way his bright orange mane flowed like a waterfall. In a way, G was utterly captivated, frozen in either fear or anticipation. With a knowing glance, the larger of the orange freaks reached over, his hands gliding over his mouth to quiet his screams.

"My name is Gritty, the Flyers mascot. I'm not here to hurt you. I'm here to fuck you," he started, a soft smile on his face. "Mr. Bettman couldn't project Crosby into your living room, said that I was the second best option. You know how much he cares about hockey fans. Let's get this show on the road, shall we?"

For once, Claude was at peace with the world, for many of life's questions had come to fruition. Gary Bettman truly did care about the players of the NHL, and that at that very moment he had a path in life, and it was Gritty. The adrenaline fizzled out and was replaced with serenity, a time to cherish and remember forever. He looked at the orange mascot in front of him, the sun shining from the window behind him filling out his silhouette, and for once, he didn't look away. It made his irises burn, but he was his light, his life.

Nodding, Giroux placed his hand on the mascot's face with a gentle motion, stroking his fur. It was surprisingly soft, slightly sticky. His breathing was slow, steady like the rhythm of a song, a silent lullaby. His eyes were closed now, inching closer to his gorgeous face, licking parted lips as he mustered the courage to close the distance between them. When their mouths collided, it was like fireworks; Gritty tasted sweet and spicy all at the same time, as his long wet tongue invaded his throat. His large muppety hands were exploring Claude's torso now, a soft moan escaping while he rubbed his chest.

The need was growing stronger, reaching down in search of his belt. The fluffy beast laughed breathily against his neck, taking his hands in his paws. His sigh sent shivers down Claude's spine, and a growing pit in his stomach that needed to be filled.

"A little desperate are we?" the orange colored organism teased in his deep, growly voice. He sounded almost disappointed with the quick pace of it all, as if he were more used to taking his time, though thankfully he could tell Claude couldn't wait much longer. He reached down in his pile of fur, parting the strands like the red sea, pulling out his ginormous orange member. He were in awe of its size, how it glistened like a glazed donut, hand unconciously moving forward to poke it. "No touching!" he playfully chided, grabbing the non-mascot by the shoulders and turning him stomach-down on the couch.

His breathing hitched in excitement, listening closely as Gritty tore open a condom package. It was a relief for him to know that he cared about using protection - most other mascots would forgo such a thing.

The feeling of his soft hands on his back sent a jolt through his body, orifices pulsating as he lined his wiener up to Claude's hole. Their breathing was synced, heavy gasping, an act of oneness. It was truly beautiful. As he slid himself in, the Flyers player could feel his eyes roll to the back of his head, back arching like some sexy yoga pose. Each thrust brought him closer to heaven, a sense of airy lightness coursing through his veins. The room began to darken as he tried with utter futility to keep up, his guts filling up with glorious orange cream, eventually blacking out when Gritty removed himself.

By the time he was awake again, he found himself wrapped up in a robe, a fresh mug of coffee by his side, as well as his tablet. The time read around half past seven, except it was already Monday. His eyes felt heavy as he tried to rub the tired out of them, to no avail. It felt as if the entire thing - Claude's enchanting evening with Gritty, was all a dream. It was hard to tell.

Shuffling over to the bathroom, hands tightening the white cloth around his waist, the ginger man looked at himself in the mirror. His hair was sticking up all over the place, bags around the eyes, generally looking like a total catch. Giggling to himself, he opened the medicine cabinet in search of some tylenol for his pounding headache. Instead, he found a crumpled up note sitting alone on the shelf.

"I love you."

\- Gritty

**Author's Note:**

> IM SORRY ONCE AGAIN. comments/kudos much appreciated


End file.
